A Hint of Romance Wouldn't Hurt
by Ivanolix
Summary: D/V. Daniel wants to make Vala weak in the knees.


It was almost becoming a habit, Vala giggling as Daniel descended from the slightly higher plane of bliss to gather up the sheets that they had spoiled with their sticky, wet, gloriously passionate summer afternoon sex. She tripped off to the shower, all warm and glowing still, and he started the load of laundry. It could have all been so mundane, but Vala's appreciation of the quirky and surreal made it a beloved familiar pattern.

She always left the bathroom door open, too, knowing that he couldn't walk by without his practical mind descending into a tangle of lust and love that would leave him no choice but to join her. They were both a bit of a mess still, but it didn't matter under the cascade of almost-scalding water, and even that became part of the background as their focus drifted far from cleanliness. Thirty minutes later, as the water turned from hot to warm, they emerged happily worn out and clean.

As the bed was bare for the time being, Vala snuggled deep into the cushy couch in the living-room, wrapped in a cozy bathrobe. Daniel took the seat next to her, and she arranged herself to be in the right spot to just melt right back into him. Tired but sated, Vala lazily flipped the TV on to some silly romantic comedy and sighed.

Daniel closed his eyes, enjoying the way Vala relaxed to fit perfectly against him, all warmth and softness. He dozed for a few minutes, letting the hum of the washer and the drone of voices on the television lull him away from reality, but came back before falling asleep. It was too early for that—they had a whole evening of this vacation to look forward to. Vala's head was resting on his chest, leaving a wet spot on his own robe that slowly spread, and absent-mindedly he reached for a damp tendril of her hair to curl around his finger over and over. The people on the television were melodramatic and cheesy, but he didn't pay them much attention. Breathing in deeply, the scent of Vala's organic peach shampoo brought back the inevitable memories of how many times he'd massaged it into her head.

Vala gave a soft snort, breaking the lazy haze surrounding them both.

"What is it?" he murmured.

"That's hardly real," she answered, nodding towards the movie playing out on screen.

"Since when are you a critic?" he asked, amused. Like Teal'c, she had gobbled up all the stranger sides of popular American culture with a natural anthropologist's fascination.

"Since I saw enough of these things for them to cease being just a delightful novelty," she answered lazily.

"Fair enough," he said. "What exactly is unreal?"

"Oh, you missed it," she said, "but it was your typical 'man finally proposes and they share a nicely—how do you say—PG rated kiss until the woman's knees go weak and she needs physical support to keep from fainting away' scene."

"I don't think they're supposed to have fainted," said Daniel, brow creasing a little. "That's a bit old-fashioned. But being swept off one's feet seems to be a lasting trend, at least."

"Yes, I'm sure it's a lovely male fantasy," Vala commented. "Being able to do nothing more than a simple kiss and have the girl melting like candy in a child's hand—possibly an overcompensation, probably so, actually."

"I don't know, it doesn't seem to be just a 'movie fact'," objected Daniel.

Vala laughed quietly. "Oh, it's a myth Daniel, believe me. No man can do that much with a kiss where his hands don't go a little lower."

"Hmm." The cogs in his mind started turning, and he began wondering how to find outside research on this. He'd never really thought about it before, but now he needed to know. Was it just Vala?

He completely missed the obligatory wedding scene complete with soaring violins due to busy thoughts, but Vala didn't blame him and just switched the channel over to where a Wormhole eXtreme rerun was showing. That was more his mindless entertainment, and they half-dozed together until it was time to eat.

ooooooo

Work came knocking early Monday morning with no regard to Sunday night. As the alarm blared out some godawful pop song that Vala either loved or pretended to love for the sake of annoying him—Daniel couldn't always tell which was the case—he rolled over and reached across Vala to slap the snooze button. His arm remained draped over her, but before he could doze off she rolled out from under it fast enough that it smacked the bed.

"Up and at 'em, sunshine," she said, in that quirky imitation of Mitchell that she occasionally indulged in.

Daniel moaned, wondering what ever happened to cuddling and wake-up sex after the alarm went off. He should never have let Vala find something more interesting than sex...or wait, wasn't it the other way around? He couldn't think clearly this early. Whatever it was, Vala now insisted that they be to work on time, and he couldn't totally fault her for that.

Vala cooked the toaster waffles and Daniel fried the eggs, and they both managed to be dressed and straightened up before they got that far. After the usual quick rock/paper/scissors game to decide who would drive and who would pick the iPod playlist, they made the short commute to the SGC and arrived at their daily briefing exactly 30 seconds after the hour. Mitchell had warned them before they officially got together about not letting romance overwhelm work, and Vala had politely and maturely stuck her tongue at him while Daniel rolled his eyes at them both—but for all that, Cam had yet to be unimpressed by their conduct.

It was Vala's turn that day to check the value of a hoard of minor trinkets they had discovered on P2...well, there wasn't anything else on the planet, so Daniel couldn't quite remember the designation. It was something she was unusually good at, and as far as the SGC was concerned it was mundane and too troublesome to devote one of their valuable SFs or geniuses to the task. The light in Vala's eyes as she reported the daily increase of her—the SGC's, rather, as they all reminded her—PayPal account was one of Daniel's favorite things. Even better was when she went "treasure hunting" of a less literal sense with him, tracking down sources and documents to explain the purpose of the various random artifacts SG teams collected off-world.

But today Daniel's task was a simple translation, one so simple that halfway through he started to do it by rote, leaving his mind free to ponder. Vala's comment from yesterday seemed to float atop of his pond of recent memories, an lily-pad of a mystery that demanded attention. Active attention, rather. And since it was Monday, he decided that he could let work rest for just a second while he answered this question.

The only question was, how do you research the way women feel while being kissed? Had there ever been a psychological study on it? Would it address the particular points that Vala had brought up? Would it be applicable to his, well, very unique circumstances? Even if it was possible, it would hardly provide directions, no? Was he approaching the problem too analytically? Yes.

Realizing that this called for a simpler method, with hands stuffed in pockets he hopped up the flight of stairs that separated his lab from Sam's. The door was open, as usual, but he turned the corner just as a flurry of wobbly tan missiles were flung at his head. His reflexes useless while his hands were held captive by pockets, he squeezed his eyes shut and yelped as several sharp stings followed. His glasses tumbled to one side, and he opened his eyes as the barrage stopped, just in time to watch the rubber bands flop to the floor.

"Sorry, Daniel!" came Sam's call, both amused and apologetic all at once.

"The clock passed midnight many hours ago, Sam," Daniel said, touching his face gingerly at the marks that he were sure would turn red. "It's Monday—work, remember?"

"This isn't work?" Sam asked innocently.

"We've both spent too much time around Jack," Daniel said, sighing. He walked in and blinked at the giant contraption across the lab.

"Like my gatling gun?" asked Sam with a grin.

"Not really," said Daniel.

"Oh, you just hold a grudge," said Sam. "But I assume you didn't come to ask about my strategy to beat Teal'c and Mitchell during the next inter-department war?"

"No, no, that thought hadn't crossed my mind," said Daniel. "Sam, do you mind if I ask you an odd question?"

"Are we talking normal-odd or Daniel-odd?" asked Sam, looking up from her gun. "But either way, sure, Daniel."

"Have you ever been literally swept off your feet by a kiss?"

Sam's smile wavered, her eyes narrowed, and she let her hands rest on the table. Leaning an inch or so forward, she looked in his eyes. "Daniel, you are married to Vala, correct?"

"Not that kind of question," explained Daniel.

"Okay, just checking," said Sam, standing back up. "Um, well, Daniel—yes."

"Really?" said Daniel.

"Yes," said Sam a little hesitantly, but smiling nonetheless. "I can recall a few times with Jonas; a long time ago, but, you know..." She shrugged.

"Hanson, right?" asked Daniel, an eyebrow suspiciously rising.

She reached out and gave him a light slap on the shoulder. "Come on, Daniel!"

"Well I don't know, I wasn't here for all that, remember?" he answered half-playfully. "Just checking."

"Um, I can ask why you're asking this, right?" Sam continued.

"Oh, just that Vala said it was a myth—apparently it's never happened to her," said Daniel.

Sam's face sobered up. "That doesn't surprise me," she admitted. "From all she's told me, I'd suspect she's never been truly 'romanced'."

"What does that mean, exactly?" asked Daniel, curious. "I mean, it's not like we haven't kissed."

"Well, Daniel, it's not every man who can give a knee-wobbling kiss," said Sam, any slight discomfort forgotten. "You have to be focused on the kiss itself, not her body, not the sex you want to have afterwards."

Daniel was starting to flush. "Right. Why did I come to discuss my sex life with you?" he muttered.

"Daniel," Sam chided, a grin spreading. "We've always been able to discuss everything."

"Yes, but this never came up," said Daniel.

"What can I say, that was pre-Vala," Sam said, shrugging again. "And it's not like I'm discussing our sex-lives on a whim—you asked."

"Okay," said Daniel, putting up his hands as if to brush away the chalk on a blackboard. "This conversation has officially gone towards an almost-if-not-pretty-much-definitely disturbing area."

"Seriously, though, Daniel," Sam said, dropping the teasing demeanor. "I hope this isn't an idle question; you two are communicating about those things, aren't you?"

"Yes, we're fine with that," said Daniel. "I just think—you're probably right, she just didn't know what to ask for, and I didn't know what to give."

"Well, now that we've cleared that up," said Sam, "if you don't mind, I need those rubber bands back." She reached past his glasses to pluck one from his hair, and another that had caught on his shoulder patch. "I think I've almost got the angle and tension correct on the firing mechanism, but unfortunately even this quality of rubber bands leaves inequalities that can't be accounted for in the weapon."

"You all take that game too seriously," said Daniel, shaking his head a little.

"Oh please, you should have seen this place before we solved the problems with getting the Stargate to dial," said Sam with a half-snort. "All of us racking our brains to the limit, and then...well, there was nothing else down here to do. The military doesn't know what true competitive rubber band gun wars are."

"Thanks, Sam," said Daniel as he walked out the door.

Frankly, that was more information than he had wanted—but it covered most of the areas. When it came to practice, though, he realized he was on his own. There was no way he was asking Mitchell or Teal'c for kissing tips. But he was willing to wing it. Vala had brought so much experience to their relationship, and things had gone smoothly so far, but occasionally he wondered if he was bringing anything new to the table. She had always expressed, verbally and non, how important a factor his love and devotion was to their intimacy, even more than anything physical. And he believed her, saw no indications from her otherwise. But Quetesh and the trail of men that the snake's influence had brought to Vala had left something out, and he wanted the opportunity to give it to her. There was nothing she deserved more.

ooooooo

"Da-an-niel," sung Vala, slipping into his lab with a slight swing of her hips. "Where's my jacket?"

"It's the dog days of August, why did you bring a jacket?" asked Daniel, almost monotone as his attention was still caught by the computer screen.

"We work underground with an over-enthusiastic air conditioning system," explained Vala, smoothly making her way towards his desk. "And you didn't answer my question."

Daniel looked up at her, smiling briefly. "I know." With a click of the mouse, he closed the window and stood up, revealing a pale blue denim jacket hanging on the back of his chair. With a deft little shake to remove any of the ambient dust that clung to Daniel's lab like an alien entity of its own, he walked around his desk and held out the jacket.

With a slight shake of her head, she slid her arms into the sleeves as he held them ready for her. It fit snugly, and he smoothed out a couple imaginary wrinkles on her shoulders as she buttoned it up.

"Am I going to be entertained by your wild attempts to come up with an excuse for having this?" Vala asked, turning as she finished and grinning like a madwoman.

"You left it on the bench after lunch," Daniel said.

"And you just had to adopt it and make sure it got safely home?" Vala queried, head full of springy curls tipping just slightly to the left. "Safe words, Daniel, but tricky ones."

"No reason," amended Daniel with a smile. It was just an inch left of the truth, and there was no hint of anything in his eyes. "Let's go, shall we?"

"No, we shalln't," said Vala lightly as she slid her arm into the crook of his. "I have to ask Muscles about the picnic."

"Oh, don't tell me, you signed up for something," Daniel sighed.

"Daniel, it's not like I can't cook, you know that," said Vala, giving him the lightest of slaps on the arm wrapped around hers.

"Earth food?" Daniel looked down at her, an eyebrow raised behind his eyeglasses.

"Potato salad," she said, grinning. "It's what recipes and that lovely Food Channel are for."

He chuckled, following as she led him to where Teal'c was squashing some energetic young recruits in the gym, all in the name of "training sessions". Daniel was always a little cautious when he saw Teal'c all aglow, and not from sweat—he enjoyed it all too much. But after confirming that Vala Mal Doran had indeed signed her name for potato salad, they could take the elevator to the top of the base.

It was a warm summer night, blues and purples fighting for control of the edge of the sky where the sunset did not reach. It was Vala's turn to drive, and Daniel put Beethoven's Seventh Symphony onto the speakers, letting the complex emotional strains seep deep into his bones. He wasn't forgetting his plan, but he wasn't giving any clues either.

The second movement was coming down from its powerful high when Vala made a tight right turn into their driveway, stopping just short of the back of the garage without sending his body flying forward, a talent that had taken her many months to learn after Daniel began to trust her behind the wheel.

Daniel led the way into the house, flipping on the bare minimum of light needed to avoid tripping over the furniture. The large window to the south let in a warmth to the ambient light, and the sofa looked particularly cozy. With a happy sigh, Vala began shedding her jacket with one hand and her hairband with the other. Daniel slipped out of his coat and let it hang over the plush armchair, resting his hands on top of it as he looked to Vala.

"Yes, darling?" she asked absent-mindedly upon seeing his gaze. Her hair had jumped from under the small black band, frizzing in a light halo around her head.

"Mm, nothing in particular," he said, his reply just off the mark.

She maneuvered herself in a few steps to stand in front of him, looking up with slow dancing in her eyes. "Oh?"

"That might not have been the whole truth," he murmured. He put out a hand to lift her chin a tad. This was the moment he had been planning since this morning, and his last distracted thought was at how ironically perfect if was turning out.

He dipped his head, pressing his lips softly against hers. It was a baby step, and she recognized it, reaching for him with her lips and hands both, weaving her arms up and around his back, pulling him to her. It was the way things always went, and it wasn't the way they would go tonight. Not breaking his gentle pressure on her too-eager lips, his hands reached for hers, pushing them back to rest motionless by her hips.

His head tilted just barely as he deepened the kiss, his lips opening to better cover hers. A slightly bemused "Hmm?" escaped her, but too late. One of his hands sat lightly on the small of her back, the other rose to bury itself in her hair. She arched against him, moving towards the wild passion this always led to. All the blood was traveling far from of his head, but he fought to keep his focus, holding his body just far enough back.

His kiss teased, searched, worshiped; his hand in her hair, massaging, combing, pulling ever so gently at the sensitive roots, and slipping down her head to lightly caress her cheek. A murmur of pleasure vibrated from her throat, sending aching waves of desire coursing through him. His hand twitched, wanting to go lower, ever lower, wanting to carry her off as she so clearly expected. But not yet.

Inching closer until her body was almost pressed against his, a film of heat and clothing all that separated them, he moved slowly and smoothly, kissing her with all the care that his bewildered mind could conjure to keep the power and the passion at bay. His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling at the tiny frizzled curls at the base of her neck. Another murmur of pleasure, and he felt her strength slip for a second, her body rest against the hand at the base of her back.

He smiled through the kiss, and with a swift twist he turned and dipped her, secure in his grasp, lips and tongue no longer his alone as they melded with hers. For a moment only she didn't push for more, and then he slowly lifted her back up until they both stood leaning on each other. One last teasing tug on her lower lip, and then he pulled back to take a breath.

"Where did that come from?" Vala whispered, bringing her hands up to rest on his chest.

"I wanted to kiss you senseless," he murmured against her forehead, his eyesight a haze of desire that grew ever stronger.

"Close enough, I admit it," she answered, voice low and breathy. "Couldn't let it stand?"

"You provoked me to a challenge," he answered with an airy chuckle.

"Typical male," she whispered fondly, and pressed closer to him until he could feel her rapid heartbeat. "No more talking?"

In all the twenty-nine languages he knew, Daniel couldn't think of any words he wanted to hear more. Romantic kisses in the caramel light of the setting sun went only so far—now was the time for the fade-to-black. He'd run the load of sheets again later.


End file.
